


Time For Us

by Denstort



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:37:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3943906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denstort/pseuds/Denstort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom never seemed to have the time...could he loose what is most precious to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time For Us

“You promised,” came those words down the phone at me…and the hurt that the voice was full of.

“I’m sorry, but they want the artwork two days earlier. Something about the printers. We can go another night.”

“No, we can’t…tonight is the last night.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You know how much I wanted to see this orchestra.”

“I’m really sorry, you can still go.”

“But I wanted you there with me, wanted you to see how beautiful the music is.”

“I know…but I can’t make it.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Matt?”

“I guess I’ll go then…don’t want to waste the money.”

I didn’t like the tone in Matt’s voice; it was distant…cold even, and that rang alarm bells.

“Matt, we can talk about it when I get back.”

“Don’t bother, you obviously don’t have time for us anymore,” came the reply.

“Matt please, I promise…”

“No, Dom, don’t promise…they mean nothing, well to you. I guess I’ll see you in Belfast.”

“Matt, wait.”

“I’ll leave my key in the post-box.”

“Matt…please.”

The phone clicked off.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I said to myself and dialled his mobile, but it went straight to voice-mail.

“Matt, don’t do anything until I get back. I love you.”

But I knew it was already too late.

I should have seen this coming, we’d been spending less and less time together, as the pressure of the new album and planning for the tour increased.

But even then, Matt, and god knows how he’d done it, had dropped everything when I wanted to see him.....so why   
hadn’t I?

I guess I don’t have that stubborn streak that he does, and I can’t refuse someone when they ask for something. 

But had my unwillingness to displease just cost me the love of my life?

Like hell it would…sod the artwork. I’m going to face hell and high water to get back to London and be with him. I dialled another number.

“Glen…do you know how to hire a private jet?”

I arrived at Heathrow some fourteen hours later…blessing Glen, our tour manager. I had just enough time to get to   
our…well I hope it’s still our apartment…change and make a mad dash for the Royal Albert Hall.

I fidget in the taxi, willing it to go faster. I’m throwing money at the driver and again blessing Glen for phoning   
ahead and finding out that Matt hadn’t returned his tickets, and for explaining to the management that a Mister   
Howard would be running a little late, but please let him in if the performance has started.

Sometimes it helped to be in an internationally known band as the staff at the door to the auditorium let me in and showed me to the box that Matt was in. 

I could hear the music, it did sound wonderful. I carefully opened the curtain and stopped...he looked so serene and quite beautiful, eyes closed, listening to the music. But I could see there was sadness on his face, and I had put it there.

Quietly I sat down, but I think he must have sensed me, because he opened his eyes and they widened in surprise.

Just as I reached out a hand to take his, a singer started singing ‘A Time For Us’ in Italian and I saw a tear run   
down his face.

I took his hand…moved closer and whispered, “You’re right….I haven’t given us enough time…you enough time. But it stops now...please, I love you so much, don’t give up on us.”

He turned in his seat and looked at me with those eyes that could freeze my heart and fire up my passion.

For a moment I thought he was going to stand up and leave, but instead he leant forward and kissed me, and as the last words of the song rang out, he said.

“I never could.”


End file.
